


Numbers

by casesandcapitals



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Pining, mulitiple sexual partners, soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:12:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1213993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casesandcapitals/pseuds/casesandcapitals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are born with them and everyone has them. A series of little white numbers etched into your wrist that counts down, and down, and down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Numbers

Gerard and Mikey's parents always liked to tell the story of how they met. Donna had been ordering coffee and Don had been so distracted, looking at his numbers tick down **3... 2... 1...** that he didn't watch where he was going and bumped right into her. She dropped her coffee; he bought her a new one. Their clocks had matched up and it had been love at first sight.  
Of course, _all_ love was love at first sight. No one's clock ever led them to someone they didn't like. Once you found your soul mate, that was it. The numbers flashed zero for a moment, then faded away completely. Once that happened you were in love and you might as well get married that very afternoon.  
Some people fought it. They tried not to fall in love with their match, tried to hide their numbers from the world and from themselves, but the numbers always worked. Once you met your match, no matter how hard you tried, you knew that they were perfect for you.  
Legend was that hundreds of years ago, some scientists had figured out what Love really was. They made it into a formula, then into a chemical compound, then into a serum. Enough people wanted the injection that would count down to them meeting their soul mate that over the generations, humans had just evolved to be born with the numbers.  
Gerard sometimes touched the little white numbers on his wrist and dreamed about his soul mate.

\------------------------------------------------- four years left ----------------------------------------------

"I don't see why you guys are even bothering," Mikey said, leafing through the pages of a comic. "You're not soul mates."  
"Well, duh," Gerard answered, rolling his eyes. "Bert's not gonna meet his match until he's 47. I'm meeting mine when I'm 22."  
"So why bother dating?"  
"Because why not?" Gerard asked. He paused in his search for a clean shirt and stared at his younger brother. Or, more accurately, he stared at the comic that was in front of Mikey's face. "Bert doesn't want to be alone for that long and if he's willing to fuck around until then, why not fuck around myself?"  
"Don't you think your match will be pissed when they find out you didn't wait for them?"  
"People do this all the time, Mikey," Gerard explained for the millionth time. "I'm going to love my match and they're going to love me, flaws and all. Matched people don't worry about Before shit."  
"I think I'd be upset," Mikey mused, finally setting the comic open against his chest. "I mean, when I meet them and we fall in love, what if they've slept with like, a hundred people before me? Doesn't that cheapen our love?"  
"You won't care once you're matched."  
Mikey shrugged and went back to his comic. Gerard rolled his eyes and resumed searching the bedroom floor for a shirt.

"Mikey's been bugging me about us again," Gerard sighed.  
Bert rolled over and slung an arm over Gerard's bare stomach. He kissed his neck.  
"Mikey's too young to get it. And why should he? He's meeting his match at what, like... 16?"  
"Just before he turns 17, yeah," Gerard answered. He ran his fingers through Bert's knotted hair.  
"So he doesn't have to worry about spending decades alone. He doesn't even have to _consider_ all those years. He's got like three years left, lucky prick."  
"Mmm," Gerard agreed absently. He thought about his own numbers. He didn't like to look at them when he was with Bert, so he always kept bracelets on. Bert wore a wristband over his because he got tired of the pitying looks people gave him when they saw how long he had to wait.  
"I've got four years left," Gerard murmured.  
Bert made an unhappy noise but tried to mask it by kissing Gerard's neck again.  
"We can still hang out, you and me," Gerard said.  
Bert chuckled. "You won't want to, once you're matched. I appreciate the gesture though."  
A sharp little pang of guilt hit Gerard in the stomach. To distract himself, he pressed against Bert and kissed him. "We've still got plenty of time."  
Bert chuckled again and let Gerard crawl, naked, into his lap.  
"Yeah," Bert smiled. "I got you for now."

\------------------------------------------------- two years left ----------------------------------------------

As Gerard's numbers counted further and further down, he and Bert decided to stop seeing one another.  
"I met this other guy," Bert said. "He's not meeting his match for another six years and he agreed to spend some of that time with me."  
Gerard fiddled with the straps on his duffle bag. He was going back for his third year of college that afternoon, and he would be meeting his soul mate just after he graduated.  
"I'm glad you found someone else," Gerard said. His smile didn't touch his eyes.  
Bert hated pity, so Gerard tried not to show it even though he felt it. Bert still had 24 years left until he met his soul mate. The thought of being alone for so long made Gerard's stomach ache. It wasn't fair, but there wasn't anything anyone could do about it.  
Bert put on a brave face and hugged Gerard.  
"Send me a picture when you meet them," he said. "I wanna see this amazing person who's worthy of you."  
Gerard smiled and felt tears in his eyes.  
"I will. Someday, you and your match and me and mine will have to get together for dinner or something."  
Bert laughed, because they both knew that would never happen. "Yeah, absolutely."  
Gerard kissed Bert one last time on the lips and tried not to linger too long.  
"Goodbye, Bert."  
"Bye, Gerard."

\------------------------------------------------- one year left ----------------------------------------------

"You waiting for someone?"  
Gerard looked up from where he was sitting on a park bench to see a woman with pigtails and a mini skirt staring down at him.  
"What?"  
"You were touching your numbers," the woman shrugged. "I figured you were meeting your match today."  
"Oh," Gerard realized, pulling his fingers away from his left wrist. "No, not for another year or so."  
The woman sat next to Gerard on the bench and carefully crossed her legs. She leaned toward him.  
"Oh yeah? You up for some fun in the meantime?"  
Gerard skimmed his eyes from her bare, soft looking legs, to her pert breasts, up to her bright red lips.  
"Yeah, sure."

"Fuck, Gerard," Lindsey moaned. She wrapped her legs tight around his hips, forcing him deeper.  
Gerard just groaned in response, thrusting harder and biting her pale neck.  
"Deeper, deeper _please_."  
"God, fuck," Gerard cursed. He pressed one hand against the wall behind the headboard and pounded into her.  
She left scratches down his back when she came. He left a few hickeys on her neck.

Afterward they sat at her kitchen table and smoked cigarettes.  
"I got ten years," she shrugged when the topic eventually came up. "And it's not like they're gonna care, so I figured- why the fuck not?"  
Gerard grinned around his smoke. "Yeah, I feel the same way. I had a thing with this guy for a while, but he split when my timer started getting low."  
"Yeah?"  
"Yeah, he was kind of bitter, I think. His numbers won't run out until he's 47."  
"Damn," Lindsey sighed, ashing in the empty coffee mug in front of her.  
Gerard ran a thumb over his own numbers.  
 **1:2:2:5:7:2:14**  
One year, two months, two weeks, five days, seven hours, two minutes, and fourteen seconds.  
The last set of numbers ticked down like a pulse. **13... 12.... 11... 10... 9....** "  
"Hey."  
Gerard looked up. Lindsey was smirking at him.  
"Don't get too caught up on those seconds, they'll drive you mad."  
Gerard smiled. "Yeah. I'll try not to."

\------------------------------------------------- six months left ----------------------------------------------

It was taboo to date anyone during the last six months of your countdown. Gerard and Lindsey had hooked up a few more times after they had first met, but now they were just friends.  
Gerard leaned back in his chair and winced when it made an obnoxious creaking noise. No one in the class bothered to look his way.  
He was so close to finishing college he could practically feel the fine arts degree in his hands. But there were still classes to attend and finals to take, so Gerard tried to pay attention.  
He subconsciously rubbed at his numbers.  
 **0:6:1:4:6:25:31**  
Zero years, six months, one week, four days, six hours, twenty five minutes, and thirty one seconds.  
He had the date circled on his calendar.

 

\------------------------------------------------- one month left ----------------------------------------------

Gerard started paying attention everywhere he went. He was finished with college and was working as a penciler at a comic company. He knew his match wasn't anyone in the company, even though he had secretly hoped they were going to be a famous comic book author.  
He knew he wasn't going to find his soul mate just by looking, but he kept looking anyway.  
The numbers weighed heavy on his mind.  
 **0:1:3:2:7:5:52**  
Zero years, one month, three weeks, two days, seven hours, five minutes, and fifty two seconds.  
Gerard chewed on his lip and tried to focus on the drawing on his desk.

\------------------------------------------------- one week left ----------------------------------------------

"Hey, my band's playing this weekend. You're coming right?"  
Gerard pulled his cigarette from his mouth and grinned, even though Lindsey couldn't see it over the phone.  
"'Course, I'll be there. When and where?"  
"Saturday, at The Sour Lounge," Lindsey said.  
"Yeah, alright. I'll see you there."  
They hung up and Gerard put his phone back in his pocket. He took another inhale on his cigarette before stubbing it out and getting back to work.  
It wasn't until he was sitting at his desk did he remember.  
Saturday was circled on his calendar in bright red marker.  
 **0:0:0:6:8:20:4**  
Zero years, zero months, zero weeks, six days, eight hours, twenty minutes, and four seconds.

\------------------------------------------------- six hours left ----------------------------------------------

Gerard tried to take steady breaths in the shower while he cleaned himself more thoroughly then he ever had before. He kept glancing at his left wrist, at the little white numbers that kept ticking down. His heart was pounding.  
He had done laundry yesterday and spend most of the week cleaning his apartment. His fridge was stocked, he had bought new sneakers, he had called Mikey at least fifty times.  
Pete answered half of the calls, since him and Mikey were matched now. Gerard got along well enough with Pete, but he didn't know him too well.  
Matched couples usually spent the first few months together in almost total isolation, just reveling in each other.  
Gerard tried not to think about his seventeen year old brother and twenty year old Pete _reveling_ in each other.  
He tried not to think about six hours from then when he would meet his soul mate. He thought maybe his heart would explode.

Once he was dressed and looking as pretty and presentable as he possibly could, he sat on the edge of his bed and picked up his phone.  
"Hello?" answered a rough, cheery voice.  
"Bert?"  
The other line was staticy with silence for a moment and Gerard held his breath.  
"Gerard? Is that you?"  
"Yeah. Yeah, it's me."  
"I- wow. I haven't- it's been so long. How are you?"  
"I'm, I'm fine. I guess. Actually I'm kind of freaking out."  
"Why, what's wrong?" Bert demanded. His tone went from nervously-shy to Protective Older Friend immediately.  
"I've got five hours and change," Gerard whispered hoarsely.  
"Oh. Oh damn."  
They sat on the phone in silence for a few minutes.  
"I'm freaking out," Gerard admitted. "My heart's racing and I can't breathe."  
"You're having a panic attack, Gerard," Bert said softly. "It's okay. Everything's going to be great. Where are you?"  
"At my apartment in New York City," Gerard said. "I'm going to a friend's show tonight and that's... I think that's when my time runs out."  
"What kind of show?"  
"Like, punk rock-ish? They're really good."  
"Well hey," Bert chuckled. "At least your match has a good taste in music."  
Gerard laughed and shut his eyes. He leaned back into his mattress.  
"I didn't know who else to call, you know? I just. I know I probably shouldn't have but, but you've always been there for me. You were always there for me. I still care about you a lot, and I know it probably won't matter in five hours but I just wanted you to know that. I never forgot you."  
"Gerard," Bert said simply. Gerard wanted to cry just from hearing it. "You'll always be my first, Gerard. I'll always care deeply for you, you know that." He chuckled then, and it sounded like he was covering a sob. "You're gonna be so happy, Gerard. So, so happy."  
"I just wish-"  
"No," Bert cut him off. "Please don't say what you're about to say. It's not fair. I can't take it, okay?"  
Gerard sobbed then, trying to swallow passed the lump in his throat.  
"Sorry, I won't. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called."  
"No, I'm glad you did," Bert told him softly. "I'm glad I got to hear from you."  
Gerard heard the _one last time_ in Bert's voice as clear as if he had said it aloud.  
Bert coughed, and Gerard knew he was clearing the sadness from his tone.  
"Okay, go fix your damn eye make-up because I know you just smeared it all to hell like you always do."  
Gerard laughed, because Bert was right. He was always right about Gerard.  
"And just," Bert continued, "just go to the show and ignore your numbers and have a good time and when you see them, you'll know and everything will just fall into place, okay?"  
"Okay," Gerard said, nodding to himself.  
"Okay."  
There was another moment of silence, then Bert spoke.  
"I'm so happy for you, Gerard."  
"That means a lot to me."  
"I know it does," Bert laughed. "Alright, go fall in love, you total loser."  
Gerard laughed and felt the ball of tension in his chest unwind.  
"Okay, I will."  
"Bye, Gerard."  
"Bye, Bert."

\------------------------------------------------- twenty minutes left ----------------------------------------------

Gerard had pulled his hoodie sleeve down as soon as he left his apartment. He wasn't going to watch the numbers as they ticked down.  
He did exactly what Bert told him to; he went to the show and had a great time, cheering Lindsey's band on and jumping around with the other people in the small crowd.  
As soon as the show ended, Gerard headed directly outside. He desperately needed a cigarette.  
He leaned against the brick wall of a building and watched everyone leave.  
 _Where are they?_ he caught himself wondering.  
He stood in the same spot and smoked his cigarette down to the filter. He tossed the butt away and pulled out another.  
"Hey man, can I bum a light?" came a soft voice.  
Gerard turned his head just as the numbers on his wrist ticked down to zero, and saw a guy standing a few feet away with an unlit cigarette dangling from between soft, pink lips.  
"Oh," the guy said. He touched his own wrist, then looked back up at Gerard.  
"Oh," Gerard answered.  
The guy's smile was like a blast of sunlight. His eyes were chocolate brown, matching the hair that curled around his eyes and the nape of his neck. He was shorter than Gerard, but compact and strong looking. Gerard's eyes lingered on his sculpted eyebrows, his strong jaw, the tattoo on his neck.  
"Hi," he said, grinning.  
"Hi," Gerard answered, a little breathlessly.  
"I'm Frank."  
The name seemed to brand itself into Gerard's heart, like he had never heard a more perfect thing in his life.  
"Frank," he whispered. "I'm Gerard."  
"Gerard," Frank muttered. His name had never sounded so amazing before; like music and sex and love and light.  
Frank stepped closer, pulling the unlit cigarette from his mouth. Gerard felt warm all over, he felt like he was floating. He couldn't stand having Frank be so close to him and not kiss him. So he did.  
Frank pressed him back against the brick wall and they kissed, hands running over cheeks and through hair and down arms. They twined their hands together and didn't let go for a long time.  
Gerard's wrist suddenly flared with warmth. They pulled away from each other to both look down a their own wrists. The white numbers were gone and Gerard saw his blank skin for the first time in his life. He glanced at Frank's wrist and saw a blank spot of soft skin that was surrounded by tattoos.  
"You don't have a tattoo here," he pointed out, touching Frank's wrist with his thumb.  
"I was saving it for your name," Frank answered simply, grinning. "Gerard."  
Gerard pulled him close again, and they kissed.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not an original concept. I based it on the movie TiMER and the many fanfics based on that movie.


End file.
